Against The Odds
by Tabrina
Summary: When a bloodelf girl is captured by humans while roaming Azeroth, will anyone be there to save her when they begin to beat her? I suck at Summaries, just read the story Based of WoW, rating will go up later!
1. The beating

She hadn't meant to go that far. It was an honest mistake, as there were no specific boundaries to the different sides of Azeroth; it was hard to discern one side from the other. Though she had been told that this area was meant to be neutral, it appeared that the alliance dogs currently holding her captive thought otherwise. She posed no threat to these humans, which currently stood on each side of her, dragging her along to god knows where. She kept her struggling to minimal, but instead made mind of her surroundings, and waiting for the opportune moment to run as fast as her legs could carry her. They spoke in a strange tongue, one she had heard before, but still seemed very foreign to her long ears. Her weapons lay dormant at her sides, apparently even with them, these humans found her of no threat. She herself knew that if given the chance, she'd prefer flight over fight with these men. It was apparent by their attire that they had been fighting in their class for much longer than she, and were apparently held with high respect in the areas. Her glowing green eyes cast downward at the ground, as she solemnly walked beside these men, question her fate now. Thinking that perhaps if she had heeded the words of her companions about sneaking off to unknown lands, she may not be in the predicament she was now.

As her mind reeled with possible ideas of what lay ahead of her, she suddenly noticed that her new party had stopped dead. Picking her head up to get a better view, she was surprised, and frightened to find that they weren't in a city, town, or anything of the sort. They were instead, in the middle of the dusty lands of the barrens. No other adventurer in sight for miles. Was this to be her execution spot? She heard the adventurers begin to laugh, as on her left hand side, the man released her arm to walk in front of her with two others. One in long flowing white robes, looking slightly displeased with the goings on, perhaps she could appeal to his more humanitarian side. Casting her glance up wards, her features soft and scared, her long ears drooping the slightest bit. The man in white simply looked away, while the others began laughing, a sound she was beginning to hate with every passing moment. One of the men, also in white, but not in robes by any means, as his was armor, and a very strong, thick looking kind at that. Most likely plate from what she had seen, and how he could manage to move in such heavy armor was behind her. As he reached behind his back, she felt her blood run cold as she saw what could have been a large stick with a tree trunk turned metal on the end. His mace was beyond large, and the encrusted blood from what was apparently his last victim still splattered on one blunt end. He walked slowly up to her, a smile as cold as ice plastered on his face behind his scratchy looking beard. As he reached his last step toward her, he held the large mace out, only to drop it right before her, landing with a loud thud to the sandy ground below. She would have let out a large sigh of relief, if it weren't that her breath had already been brutally ripped from her lungs as a large fist was quickly hurled into her stomach. The man on her side let her go, as she dropped to the ground, holding her stomach, as her head swam and the corners of her vision began to fade to black.

It hurt to breath, and her lungs felt as if they were on fire, as one of the man grabbed her arm again, linking his arms in hers, and pulling him in front of her, arms behind her back. A second punch was landed, and though she had promised she would not give them the satisfaction of hearing her in pain, she cried out, as she heard something in her chest snap and give under his large fist. Her body swayed and fell back into the man behind her, as only a pinhole of light was still visible to her sight, all other sight covered by blackness. She heard the man before her utter something gruffly, and suddenly, her body began to warm as the worst of the pain subsided, blinking as the blackness in her vision began to ebb away. Her body still ached, but at least her ribs no longer felt excruciating. It was the man in white robes, she figured as she rolled her head in that direction. He was here for no reason but to prolong her torture. She had no time to dwell on this as another fist was quickly slammed into her stomach. The man behind her laughed, the sound loud and boisterous in her ear, as her head fell back against him. Her body began to shake as she began to felt ice run through her veins, as she imagined from the pain, her body was going into shock. As she swayed in and out of consciousness she heard the men's laughing abruptly stop, and the body behind her suddenly relinquish its hold, as she began to tumble to the ground. Not having the energy to brace to herself for contact with the unforgiving ground, she just let herself fall. It seemed to take forever, and as she opened her eyes to see just exactly why she had yet to hit the ground, she saw herself looking up to a large pair of tusks, and what appeared to be the face of a troll. She heard more than felt the air around her rushing by very quickly, and as if aware of being watched, the trolls green eyes quickly scanned hers, before looking back up before him. As her vision began to turn completely black, and her breathing get harder and harder, she heard in a gruff, yet soft voice,

"Stay with me mon."


	2. Tuks Musings, and Sticky Liquids

It was soft, warm, her body ached, but nothing like it had before. Perhaps the beating she had received was merely a dream. Or perhaps she was still there the man in white robes just dulling her wounds. She feared opening her eyes; she didn't want to be there, she didn't want to continue that torture.

"Open your eyes mon. Your safe." The voice was gruff, and yet gentle, she had heard it before. When, she couldn't quite remember, but she knew that the voice had passed her ears once before. She slowly opened her eyes, as if testing, that if the view was not to her liking, she could close them, and possibly change the outcome. She heard a chuckle, and as she opened her eyes, she saw she couldn't see a spec of sand anywhere. No humans, no maces, no blood, none of it. What she did see was a large red room, decorated with very troll like masks and wall paintings. Her body was covered with a large blanket, and she lie in a hammock, which was not like the beds in her home land, but were still a very welcome feeling. She began to pull her body, in an attempt to sit up, get a better look at her surroundings, but was stopped by a very large hand on her, what she now realized, bare shoulder. As she followed the green hand up the large muscled arm, what caught her eyes first were the large tusks. Seeing few trolls in her homeland, it was an odd sight, but what was more odd, was the fact that the trolls she had seen, always had such short tusks. She wondered why he kept his long, and painted as well, as a red stripe ran around the large tusk. As her green eyes continued the travel, she soon found herself looking into the face of a very handsome troll. His features rough and hard, from battle more than likely, but holding a gentleness, at least towards her at this moment. His eyes matched the green hue of his skin, though seemed a few shades lighter, almost matching her own glowing ones.

"Relax mon, you took quite a beatin'." He smiled at her, as she let herself be gently guided by the hand on her shoulder to the hammock below her. "You're lucky I found ya, when I did. Much longer and you woulda been dead." Taking a large breath, she reveled in the lack of burning in her lungs, but noticed the sharp sting in her chest all the same. Find that her lungs worked, it was time to test her voice, hoping to put to words all of the questions she had in her mind.

"How did you find me," she asked, turning her head on the soft pillow below her head, for the first time realizing her red hair, normally in a ponytail, lay sprawled along the pillow.

"I had heard of Alliance dogs in the area, and went to see what trouble they be causin'." Her eyes traveled as she spoke, once again settling on his long tusks, her fingers itching to feel them, but knowing the curiosity would probably not please her savior. She quickly snapped her view up to his eyes as he heard the low chuckle he emitted.

"Never seen some this long elfie," he asked, staring her down with a grin plastered on his face, as he leaned his head closer to her, his tusks very easily within reach now. She quickly turned her head on the pillow, looking towards the wall to her right, as she felt her face flush at being caught. This only made his laughter increase, as did her embarrassment. She heard a scrape, and recognized the sound as the chair he must have been sitting on, slide along the floor. She turned her head experimentally towards him again, just as he was returning with a bottle of red sloshing liquid. From the way it moved in the glass container, it appeared to be thick, and she was dreading what she knew was to come. "Can ya sit up a bit, for me mon?" As he slid his hand under her, and began to push her up, a clear sign that even she had wanted to continue laying, she couldn't have. She cringed as she felt the pain her chest tighten, and constrict, her breathing become a bit more difficult again. He pressed the glass to her lips, and the smell instantly overwhelmed her. She jerked her head back, and like a child with medicine scrunched up her nose. This earned another hearty chuckle from the troll, as he used his strong hand on her back, to keep her from scooting away farther from it. She cast a pleading glance up at him, but just as it had not worked on the man in white robes, neither did it work on this troll. "It'll help," he calmly said, as he put the glass back up to her lips. She scrunched up her nose again, but did not move away, though the smell alone was making her slightly gag. She cast a sidelong glance at the troll, to see he was grinning the entire time, obviously finding this display comical.

"Don't let it sit in your mouth, you'll never get it down mon." She nodded, and parted her lips a bit, attempting to steel herself for the worst. Indeed he was right in giving her the warning, the liquid was sticky, warm, and thicker than razormane blood. Yet as she swallowed, she found her whole body reacting, to the strange liquid. The aches beginning to ebb away slightly, and her body giving in to a warm sensation coursing into her veins. As she was so engrossed in her thoughts of this, she had barely noticed that was being eased back down to a laying position, the firm hand on her back slipping back out from under her, once her head had hit the pillow. The large hand going to her face to gently slide some of her red hair out from in front of her eyes. "Rest now." It was a firm order, not to be debated, but at the moment, she was not in the position to argue, as she already found herself beginning to flow in and out of sleep. As she watched him stand she tested her soft voice once more.

"Thank you," she said, and was rewarded by a warm smile, and a wave of his hand. As she let herself succumb to sleep.


End file.
